


Epilogue: Somewhere Over the Rainbow Bridge

by starhawk2005



Series: A Light in the Dark [8]
Category: Marvel (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), Thor (Movies)
Genre: BDSM, F/M, Het, Loki is evil in the best possible way, Smut, because happy endings that's why, jotun-ish!Loki, my kinks let me show them to you
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-08
Updated: 2014-11-08
Packaged: 2018-02-24 15:04:55
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,810
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2585810
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/starhawk2005/pseuds/starhawk2005
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The seventh (and final) part of the Light in the Dark series. Jane and Loki go on their first official ‘date’.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Epilogue: Somewhere Over the Rainbow Bridge

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I don’t own any of these characters. Though if Jotun!Loki is for sale, I think many of us would be more than willing to buy!  
> Author’s Notes: See the end of the fic!
> 
> Banner base made by Cincoflex; Jane in Loki!green by gabbiki

Jane is unsurprised when Loki asks her out on their first ‘date’ mere hours later. It’s yet another example of how patience is not one of his strong suits. But if it gets him to lay off the marriage thing until Jane feels like she has a chance to catch her breath and figure out what she’s going to do with the rest of her research life now that she’s met the goal that has eluded her all these years…

It takes a little discussion, but soon enough Jane finds herself in the cold dank passages under the Palace, Loki leading her confidently down the chilly passageways as if he knows exactly what he’s looking for, a pale green ball of light floating along beside them. Jane suspects he conjured it entirely for her benefit; she’s pretty sure Loki can see quite well in the dark when he wants to.

“Here,” he says quietly, motioning as his hand glows green. Jane clutches tightly onto Loki’s arm (how wonderful it is to have the use of her fingers and hands again!) before the shimmering portal appears from nowhere and swallows them up.

Just like last time, the voyage through the wormhole leaves her breathless. It’s like sliding down a rainbow, lights of every colour speeding around them as they sail through space, a roaring wind causing her hair to stream behind her. Beyond the sweeping lights, suns and planets swirl by, far too fast for Jane’s taste. _I’ll get to see them up close someday, somehow,_ she promises herself. Whether she has to rebuild her own portal first or browbeat Loki into bringing her to these other places with his magic, she’s going to see those new planets and stars for herself.

The light turns brightly white just before ground hits her feet. Jane stumbles, her feet digging into deep sand, but Loki’s arm snaps around her waist and pulls her upright.

“We have to do that again,” she giggles, working to fill her lungs with the dry desert air of Puente Antiguo. She’s home. 

He grins openly at her enthusiasm. “I am certain that we will.”

_ Much better landing, too, _ Jane thinks but doesn’t say. Her last landing had been bone-wrenchingly hard, smacking into a stone floor in Asgard, courtesy of Thanos.

She shrugs that memory away. Thanos is dead and she is quite happy to move out from under the shadow of those things. Back into the _light_.

“Let me just change into something less, um, Asgardian, and then you can teleport us to the movie theater,” she tells him. 

He nods as he motions with his hand, his clothes shifting from Asgardian armour into the ubiquitous black suit and pants. Jane sighs inwardly. _I have to introduce him to denim sometime._

“There is no actual need to change garments. I easily could conceal your Asgardian dress as well,” he points out. Another swirl of his hand and Jane’s clothes morph into her usual jeans and flannel shirt. 

“That’s OK,” she answers, “it’s not like we’re in a hurry, right? I don’t really feel like hiding behind an illusion if I don’t have to.” She’s not sure she’s making any sense, but Loki smiles in an easygoing way and takes her hand, warm fingers pressing hers. 

Jane frowns a little at the state of her apartment once they get there. She’s only been in Asgard about a week and a half or so, but the apartment is more than a little dusty. She hadn’t exactly paying much attention to housecleaning while working on Stark-Foster. Frankly, she’s more than a little afraid that something in her fridge might have evolved into sentient life while she’s been away. She promises herself she’ll deal with all that later. Tonight is for them. 

She changes quickly out of her golden Asgardian dress, laying it on the bed and then, hesitating, slips into the velvety green dress Loki bought her before the big portal test. It’s really too fancy for a downtown movie theater, but at least they’ll look out of place together.

Fixing her hair and makeup, she exits the bathroom to link arms with Loki. “OK, ready when you are.”

*  *  *

Predictably, Loki is entirely unimpressed with the latest James Bond flick. Or so he claims.

“No mere mortal is capable of the feats this man is performing. He is supposed to be doing this all without magic? Ha!” he murmurs snidely to Jane at more than one point. 

She rolls her eyes. “It’s a _movie,_ Loki. It’s fantasy, OK? I’m sure you have tales on Asgard that are larger-than-life, for entertainment purposes.”

“I suppose,” he agrees, flipping a piece of popcorn into the air and catching it neatly in his mouth. 

Jane rolls her eyes yet another time. “If you are going to be like this every time I try to introduce you to a new aspect of human culture-“

He cuts off her complaint with a kiss, slightly salted and slippery with artificial butter. “Well, perhaps not _every_ time,” he promises with a smirk, reaching to sip from his Super-sized cup of Coke.

_ Oh well, if nothing else he’s not complaining about the food, _ Jane thinks to herself.

Despite his quibbles Loki does appear to enjoy the movie, especially the bits with chase scenes and explosions. Jane hesitates to ponder why _that_ could be. 

Jane’s not sure if it’s the fact that Thanos is no longer breathing down Loki’s neck or that there seems to be a sort of truce between him and his family (and Loki and SHIELD), but she doesn’t think she’s ever seen him this relaxed before. Or if she has, only for the briefest of periods.

They have dinner at a nearby restaurant during which Loki acts like a perfect gentleman the entire time, at least in terms of trying to cop a feel under the tablecloth. 

The first real surprise comes the moment they emerge from the restaurant. Without a word, Loki takes Jane’s hand and whisks them back to the desert. 

It’s early evening by now, the stars gleaming brilliantly above them, and Jane spares them a glance before turning to Loki. “Did you want to head back to my place?” He had agreed to a movie and dinner, but they hadn’t really discussed what they’d do after that. It’s not like Loki or Jane had left luggage in Asgard or anything. Maybe he’s in the mood to star-gaze with her?

“I had something more _Asgardian_ in mind, if you do not object,” he explains, waiting to gauge her reaction, his fingers warm and strong as they hold her hand.

“OK,” she agrees easily. She’s seen several of the sights of the Asgardian Palace so far – the Gardens, the Great Hall, and of course the Library – but that’s about it. She certainly hasn’t reached her fill of Asgardian attractions.

Either way it’s certainly fun to twirl through space in Loki’s arms, contained in that explosion of colours. It’s just as much fun as last time and she’s still laughing in wonder and trying to catch her breath when they touch down. “That is _never_ going to get old,” she exclaims to Loki, whose answering smile is as unguarded and warm as she’s ever seen it.

“I thought you might enjoy the view out here on the Gold Plains, unimpeded by any bright light,” he explains as Jane takes in their new surroundings. It’s full dark in the Asgardian sky now, nothing in front of Jane but flat grasslands stretching out in all directions. Many miles behind them are massive snow-capped mountains, their peaks reaching high into the sky, and far in the distance in front of them beyond the grasslands, Jane can make out the gleaming towers of Asgard. Out here however, the brightest thing is the sky.

A cool wind slides across the soft yellow grasses at the edge of the clearing they are standing in. It brushes Jane’s hair back from her face and blows locks of inky hair across Loki’s as green light shivers around him. As Jane watches, his human clothes morph back into Asgardian armour. 

He conjures his cape from his Closet and spreads it out for them, and Jane is quick to follow suit as he lays down on it, staring up at the stars. 

“It’s so beautiful,” Jane breathes, snuggling against his solid side as his arm weaves itself comfortably under her neck. The Earth’s sky is gorgeous too, of course, especially out in the country or other areas where the light pollution is low, when one can see the Milky Way in all its glory and majesty.

But Asgard’s skies are something entirely different. The stars seem closer, somehow, as if Jane can reach out and touch them

Loki waits a few minutes, giving Jane a chance to admire the sky-scape before he starts to point things out to her in a low murmur. First he describes the three moons Jane noticed before. All are bigger than Earth’s moon, with the largest moon partially eclipsing the smallest, which Loki tells her happens early each evening. He then names the different nebula Jane can see. There’s that red and gold one to their right, a pale green nebula to their left, and one of a blue to rival the Tesseract right above them at the moment.

Then he moves on to point out the constellations. “That set of five yellow stars there we call Ratatoskr,” he explains. “It is named for a creature of Asgardian legend, a squirrel that carried messages for the Old Gods. Unfortunately for him, he had a bad habit of insulting those he carried messages to. Not to mention a penchant for altering the messages and causing wars, among other things.”

Jane has to chuckle. “Causing mischief? Sounds like you and he would have gotten along very well.”

His teeth flash white and his arm presses against her shoulders. “No doubt. And there-“ he points to the far right horizon, “-do you see that set of three stars, two white with one blue above and between them? That is named for the hawk Veðrfölnir, a bird with white feathers said to sit atop the highest branch of Yggdrasil. It is said he keeps watch for Nidhöggr, the worm that would devour the roots of the Worlds Tree if the presence of Veðrfölnir did not frighten it into hiding away. You can see the constellation of Nidhöggr there.” He points to a string of six stars on the opposite side of the sky, all of them red and gleaming brightly.

Jane listens closely as Loki indicates the constellations named for day and night (‘Dagr’ and ‘Nótt’, respectively). She recognizes the Night one as being the blue star that had signaled the beginning of the funeral rites the other night. He also shows her a trio of yellow stars named for the Norns. “You call them The Fates in your Realm, I believe.” 

There’s also the constellations named for famous people from Asgardian history. Loki describes Bragi, the poet whose words were rumoured to bring tears to the eyes of everyone who heard his melodic voice. Then Tyr, who defeated a giant wolf of stone sent to attack Asgard by the Dark Elves, during something called the War for the Aether. There’s a group of stars named for Odin’s own father Bor, and a constellation shaped very similarly to the Big Dipper back on Earth, which Loki tells Jane is named for Idunn. 

He goes silent then, a thoughtful look crossing his face, but when Jane asks him about it he replies only that Idunn was a powerful sorceress who had done much to help build the original Bifröst and Asbru bridge. He even credits her with creating some of the magic that keeps the Realm Eternal _eternal_.

There’s something he’s not telling her, Jane would take bets on it, but before she can ask about it he draws something else from the air. It looks like a simple telescope, but knowing Loki it’s something far more interesting. “Do you wish to spy your home? Your Earth is far from here, but with this magic glass you can get a glimpse.” He looks through it first, double-checking his directions, then he passes the instrument to her, pointing over to the sky on their lower left. 

It takes Jane some time, but she finally sees it. A distant fleck of blue, barely visible even when she adjusts the focus of the telescope at Loki’s direction. Somehow that brings it home for her, just how far – literally – she has come. Being here with Loki seems so natural it’s almost mundane. It’s easy to forget this is another _planet_ she’s on, so many light-years from home that no human space craft they currently possess could ever reach it. The realization makes her dizzy.

“Wow,” she says, handing back the telescope. He shakes his head, inviting her to use it to study the skies more closely. Buoyed by wonder, Jane does.

It’s nearly an hour later when the wind, rapidly becoming much colder, brings Jane back to herself with a shiver. She pushes the button that lights up her watch, wincing as she realizes just how long they’ve been out here. “Sorry to make you wait so long, Loki. This must all be old hat to you.”

He raises a questioning brow, and Jane quickly amends: “Boring, I mean. You grew up here, I’m sure you know every inch of these skies.”

“Not at all,” he responds indulgently. “I find it…restful. But if you are cold,” he adds, noticing Jane shivering and pulling her light coat tighter around her, “Perhaps the time has come for us to retire for the evening?” 

“Sure. My butt’s fallen asleep by now anyway,” Jane agrees with a laugh. Loki smirks and rolls easily to his feet, lending Jane a hand to help her stand. He shakes out the cape, folding it carefully before he swirls it away into his Closet. He turns, and Jane takes her first good look at the building behind them. It’s a longhouse, with smoke rising in a thin grey thread from a simple hole in the roof.

As they get closer Jane can make out more of the features of the longhouse. It’s rougher than she expects, the walls constructed of thick logs and the roof covered with uneven tiles of wood. It seems a bit rustic for Loki’s refined tastes.

Loki leads her to towards the door. “Thor and I used to stay here on hunting or training trips in our youth.”

“Training?”

“As warriors. It is one thing to spar in a flat, even training arena in a castle. It is quite another to battle foes in a wilder setting, such as a forest or hills. There may be obstacles, such as rocks and trees, uneven terrain,” he explains as he closes the door behind them, shutting out the chilly night air.

There are no windows in the dwelling, just the hole in the roof. Jane studies the single long room. There’s a stone fireplace at the far end below the hole in the roof, with a dying fire crackling and snapping. Once Loki conjures a small ball of light for them, Jane can see furs from several large animals lie scattered on the hard-packed earth floor, and long benches line the walls. There are several tables built of wood, small enough to be easily lifted and moved around, as well as several low beds, one of which is positioned fairly close to the fireplace.

It’s colder in here than Jane expected, and Loki moves quickly to build up the fire, adding wood and urging the flames on with the help of a little lick of magic, until light and warmth fill the longhouse, edging everything in flickering gold. 

Loki takes her coat and hangs it on a peg by the door, gesturing for Jane to take a seat on the large fur spread on the floor in front of the fire. He doesn’t follow her immediately, instead taking the time to slowly strip off his armour. Some pieces he hangs on the hooks next to Jane’s coat, others are precisely folded and laid on one of the benches against the wall. Once he’s down to only a soft green shirt and the usual black leather pants, he pads barefoot to a nearby low table, scooping up a bottle of dark amber glass and two metal steins before he joins Jane at last in front of the fire.

“Might I offer you some mead, Jane?” he asks, raising her hand to his lips and kissing her knuckles with soft lips as he waits for her answer.

“Sure,” she agrees. He looks especially, well, _beautiful_ in the light of the flames. His hair has gleams that are nearly iridescent, the fire throwing golden glints into his eyes. Loki glances up from his pouring as if aware of her scrutiny, and Jane feels her cheeks colouring as she turns to the fire. 

She takes a deep drink of the mead, watching the flames. It’s delicious, and she takes another sip immediately, the honey-scented liquid warming her mouth and throat. Loki mirrors her, looping a casual arm around her waist as he looks into the flames, raising the cup to his mouth. When she looks over at him again, his eyes are distant and faraway.

“Penny for your thoughts?” she asks. His eyes flicker over to hers, a gentle smile curving his lips. 

“What does that mean?”

“Oh, it’s another expression, sorry,” she explains. “I was just wondering what you were thinking about.” It’s not the first time he’s been quiet around her, but with everything else around them so different now, part of her can’t help worrying a little-

“Not of much of anything,” is his answer. “It is a pleasant change, in fact,” he adds, his smile shading to a grin now as his gaze moves down her face, lingering on her lips.

She expects he’ll kiss her then, but he only takes another drink from his stein. They sit like that a while, Jane grateful for Loki’s body heat and the fire easing the last of her shivers, the silence comfortable. Before long her stein is empty, though she refuses Loki’s offer of a refill. She’s already feeling a buzz from the mead, relaxation worming its way into every muscle, and she figures it’s best if she stops now. Even though Loki could probably help her deal with any hangover she’d have tomorrow she’s never really been a fan of getting drunk. She doesn’t like losing control over herself like that.

Besides, Jane wants to remember every detail of their first ‘real’ date, and she certainly doesn’t want to do anything to embarrass herself!

“I am curious,” Loki says, the abruptness of his quiet words startling her, “I imagine that when you decide we should wed, you would prefer to have the Midgardian version of a wedding ceremony?”

_ Marriage? This  _ again _?_ But Jane has to admit he let her win this battle, didn’t he? They’re dating, as she requested. If he wants to work out some general details of their future wedding – slowly – as they go along, well, how can she fault him for that?

“Would you like to have an Asgardian ceremony?” she answers his question with one of her own. She has no objections, and if it helps Loki feel closer to his family she’s all for that.

He tilts his head, considering. He drains his stein and fills it carefully before answering: “I suppose Mother will expect something of the like.” He shrugs carelessly. “The notion does not bother me.”

“Well, then, why not both? We could do an Asgardian ceremony here, and then another one on Earth. That way it’s official everywhere. When we’re ready, that is,” she amends quickly.

Loki nods. “Of course,” he takes another drink, eyes still on the dancing flames. Shadows slither across his face. “Perhaps you will indulge my curiosity then, regarding Midgardian wedding ceremonies. Vows are typically spoken, yes?”

“Sure. Why do you ask?”

“Will you tell me what they are?”

Jane frowns. _He’s getting a little ahead of himself_. “Why the rush to know them _now_?”

He turns to her, smiling gently again. “Would you humour me, my love? I merely wish to be prepared for the glorious moment when you _are_ ready to wed me.”

Jane’s frown deepens, but once again it seems unfair to deny his desire to discuss the wedding, since he _had_ agreed to wait. “Um, OK. Give me a second here. It’s been a while since I’ve been to any weddings.” Forgetting her earlier promise to herself she holds out her cup and Loki fills it to the brim, Jane taking another mouthful as she thinks. 

The thing that comes to mind first, though it is so outdated it makes her smile, is: “I remember part of it used to be that the bride would say ‘I promise to love, honour, and _obey_ ’…but most women don’t go for that anymore.”

Predictably, Loki finds that amusing. “While in certain particular contexts you do _obey_ me, and gladly, I can well understand why you might choose to make such a declaration in a far more…private setting.” 

Of course Jane blushes. She takes a sip of mead, though she’s starting to feel a bit light-headed now. _Better stop._ She gets to her feet a little unsteadily to set the stein back on the low table. 

“Exactly,” she replies to his earlier statement as she curls up next to him again, looping her arm around him and cuddling against his side as she stares unseeing into the fire. It’s a struggle, trying to remember through a haze of mead and time. When was the last time she thought about marriage? Probably not since she was a teenager, if then.

It takes long minutes but Loki waits patiently as Jane mutters the words over and over to herself until she thinks she has them more-or-less correct.

“OK, I think this is as close as I can remember: ‘I, Jane, take you, Loki, to be my lawfully wedded husband, to have and to hold, from this day forward, for better, for worse, for richer, for poorer, in sickness and in health, until death do us part.’ Well, that’s one version, anyway. And then the groom puts a ring on the bride’s finger and says ‘With this ring, I thee wed. And there’s a part where the priest or minister or whatever asks each person a question – or maybe it’s the vows? – and they answer ‘I do’ if they want to get married. Wait, I think I’m mixing things up now.” Jane scrunches her forehead, trying to think, blinking the afterimages of the fire from her eyes.

“You are doing fine,” Loki smiles, his hand rubbing soothing circles on her back, warming her.

“Well, those are the basics, give or take. Does that answer your question?” _Can we change the subject now, please?_

His eyes half-close. “If you would be so kind as to repeat those vows for me again, a little louder? I would like to be certain that I know them.”

Jane resists the urge to roll her eyes. _He can be such a stubborn ass sometimes._  Still, she does as he asked. The sooner she cooperates, maybe the sooner he’ll change the subject, she hopes.

He nods, his expression serious. He watches her face intently as he repeats the vows back to her. “I, Loki, take you, Jane Foster of Midgard, to be my lawfully wedded wife. To have and to hold, from this day forward. For better, for worse, for richer, for poorer. In sickness and in health, until death do us part.” He repeats the phrases more slowly than she did, and there’s an odd gravity to his words. 

Then he toasts her with his stein and a saucy wink, and the spell is broken.

“Thank you for indulging me, my dear.” He drains the last of his mead, then refills the cup but only about halfway. He eyes her. “Are you cold?”

“I’m OK. The fire is pretty hot. As are you,” she grins, hoping he’s aware of the double meaning. 

The familiar smirk returns. “A shame, as I was going to offer to… _warm_ you.”

Jane matches his expression. “Oh, you still can, if you want,” she suggests in sly tones.

“Hmmm,” he says, gaze sweeping the length of her body. “I believe I will. Lie back.” It’s definitely an order, and not one Jane feels any inclination to disobey.

He shifts until he’s kneeling beside her, keeping her between him and the fire. There’s a series of tiny velvet-covered buttons down the front of her dress, and though Jane is sure they’re mostly for show – there’s a zipper up the side after all – Loki works each button free one by one, not in any hurry, his eyes resting knowingly on her face as Jane’s breathing speeds up.

The buttons run from neckline to hem, and though it feels like it takes hours Loki finally undoes the last button and pushes the lace away.  

Jane can feel the blood rising in her cheeks again as he sips from his cup and surveys her pale flesh in the unsteady golden light. The dress might be fancy, but her underwear is strictly utilitarian. Completely plain, the bra and the panties don’t even match; one is white, one off-white. _I’ll have to do something about that_ , she decides. Then she looks back up at Loki as he dips a finger into his cup, stirring the liquid, and the hunger in his gaze tells her he doesn’t really care what kind of underwear she’s wearing.

Loki leans over her then, licking the mead from his finger and setting the cup next to her head, and his lips descend on hers. They’re so soft, easing her lips apart, warm tongue playing with hers. She tries to wrap her arms around his neck as she melts into the kiss, but he catches them and gently places them back on the velvety fur. 

“No,” he says, breaking the kiss, his breath honeyed from the mead. “Leave your arms by your sides. Lie still and let me attend to you.” 

“OK,” she answers a little breathlessly, wondering what delicious new game he’s cooking up now. It’s all a little dizzying; the mead, the shifting light and heat playing over her eyes and skin. She has to close her eyes and inhale slowly to clear her head when he looms over her again, pulling the dress carefully down her arms.

He pulls it off her. Nothing happens for a second, and when Jane opens her eyes, curious, he’s busy folding the dress, placing it out of the way on the furthest corner of the fur. 

She starts to reach for his shirt but stops herself, remembering his command. “Will you at least take your shirt off?” There is no way she is letting him go back to the days when he was fully clothed – and armoured – while she had to be totally naked and exposed.

The corner of his mouth quirks but he pulls the shirt over his head quickly, piling it negligently on top of her dress. Jane watches the show, admiring the play of firelight over his flexing muscles. He’s got a wicked glint in his eye as he stretches out over her, his bare skin sliding sensuously on hers. He picks up his cup again and looks down at her.  

“More?” he asks, holding the sweet liquor just above her mouth and tilting the cup slightly, suggestively. 

“No thanks. I don’t want to fall asleep on you!” she laughs.

“Oh? Are you quite certain?” he takes a drink and then leans to kiss her, droplets of mead slipping from his lips to moisten hers.

_ Well, I guess a little bit more couldn’t hurt _ . She opens her mouth and swallows the alcohol, then sucks the remainder from his tongue as it sweeps through her mouth again. His hand is hot on the back of her neck, moving up to cradle her skull. She doesn’t know where his other hand is.

He finally releases her mouth so they both can breathe, and Jane realizes he’s got his index finger in the stein again, stirring the contents. When he brings that finger to her lips, Jane doesn’t hesitate; she opens her mouth and takes it in, sucking the mead off, scraping her teeth lightly over the pad. He takes a sharp breath in, and Jane has to hide a smile.

“There are many ways to indulge in tasting mead. Allow me to show you some of my _preferred_ methods,” he says to her, and there’s that devilish glint in his eyes once more. He takes back his finger, dipping it into the cup, then he poises it above her, allowing the drops to fall on her throat. They’re very cool and she sucks in a tiny gasp, making a louder noise when he cranes down and licks them up with a flicker of his hot tongue.

She digs her nails and heels into the furs as he continues, trailing the droplets down the middle of her chest, between the halves of her bra, and down the ticklish flat of her stomach, fire seeming to spark under her skin in the wake of his touch. It’s silly and arousing at the same time, Jane laughing as much as she’s moaning, her hips bucking slightly as she tries to beg him to continue.

He moves back up, the drops of honey wine now falling just along the border of the cup of her bra, and she squirms when he follows them with his tongue. There’s a fire building in her, hot and bright enough to rival that in the stone fireplace, but something tells her he’s not anywhere near done stoking it.

Jane nearly sighs in relief as he glides a hand underneath her to undo her bra. It gets tossed aside as unceremoniously as her dress, but Loki only waits, sitting up and looking down at her as he stirs his finger in the mead. It gives her a chance to admire him, to appreciate the play of light over his skin. To notice the hard curving shape under the lacings at his fly.

A breath of cold puffs over her skin, stiffening her nipples, and Jane’s eyes snap from his fly up to his face, but if he allowed himself to go Jotun he’s already back to normal. 

_ What the hell is he-? _

She finds out when he places his finger just above her breast, dripping mead onto her nipple. It’s ice-cold, and Jane gasps, arching. He laughs and leans to claim it between his lips, warming it as he sucks the cold liquid away.

“I think you liked that,” he whispers against her skin, his breath frosty. 

Jane laughs, trying to match his teasing tone. “Gee, I’m not sure. Maybe you should do it again?”

“My pleasure,” he replies with a wicked grin, letting iced droplets fall to bathe her other nipple. It’s a real challenge not to wind her fingers tightly into the long strands of his glossy hair as he nips and suckles the cold away.

He presses cool kisses to the underside of each breast and then rolls up, moving down the fur until he can slide himself between her spreading legs, pushing gently at her knees to urge her to spread wider. 

She can feel how damp her panties are already, the blush spreading from her cheeks right down her chest when he presses his nose into them and inhales noisily. “Loki!” she exclaims shyly.

“The wine of your desire rivals the finest Asgardian mead, my lady,” he purrs, gravel edging his voice, and Jane is sure she’s completely crimson by now.

“So says the Silvertongue,” she shoots back, still embarrassed even though part of her knows she’s being ridiculous. They’ve come way too far for such modesty now.

“Hmmm,” he murmurs. “An excellent notion, my dear.” So saying, he tips the cup and a splash of frigid liquid soaks into the material between her legs. The shock of cold is enough to draw a sharp sound from her throat as she jerks up onto her elbows, but Loki only smiles in that evil way she knows so well and bends to lick.

“Oh _God_ ,” she moans, shivering at the combined hot and cold swirling against her, shivering into her. Jane’s elbows are shaking too much so she allows herself to collapse back onto the fur. She can’t stand it anymore, she needs to touch him, so when his arm slithers across her hips to hold her still, she gropes for his hand. His fingers weave between hers, anchoring her.

“Which God is that, my dear?” he pauses and chuckles, and despite the shocks of pleasure still coursing though her Jane can’t help rolling her eyes.

“Lo-“ she starts to complain, but of course he chooses that moment to move the fabric of her panties to one side, upending the last of the freezing cold mead where they once were. She hisses and tries (fails) to jerk away, but his hot lips and tongue are already on her, tasting her, leaching the chill away.

Jane shudders and collapses back onto the fur, her muscles clenching helplessly as that limber tongue of his probes and slithers and flicks. He finally moves up to her clit, sucking gently and then harder, and her body can’t take any more. The fire inside her crests, sweeping over her in a burning flash, taking every part of her with it.

She’s still shaking with the aftermath when Loki scoops her gracefully up, carrying her over to the bed nearest the fire. “Wait-“ she protests.

Loki lies down, holding her against him. “Take your ease, my love. We are not at all pressed for time.” He kisses her forehead, her cheeks, her chin, before taking her mouth once more, stealing her breath just as she’s starting to get it back into some kind of even rhythm.

She’d almost forgotten that they’re both still partially clothed. Loki’s hands skim down her body, catching in her panties and pulling them all the way off, and then he rolls a little away from her to work himself out of those sinfully tight pants. 

Jane pushes herself to a sitting position, reaching towards him, but he grabs her by the wrist. “What-?” she sputters.

“Who gave you leave to touch me?” he chides her, but he’s smiling. “I think you forget who is master here. Get on your hands and knees, little one.”

Between the orgasm and the mead in her system Jane feels clumsier than normal – and that’s saying something – but Loki is patient, waiting until she is on all fours, stroking himself almost idly.

Then he’s kneeling beside her, his belly pressed to her side. She can feel his jutting shaft, hot and hard, pressing against her stomach. “What are you up to, you sneak?” she half-laughs, looking back over her shoulder to meet his smoky gaze.

His answering look is hungry, his hand sliding underneath her to pluck at a nipple. “Oh, little enough,” he murmurs, lips brushing her ear. “Just a scheme designed to drive you to scream for me, and to fall apart into bliss in my skilful hands.” It almost sounds like a threat when he says it, but Jane’s answering shiver is pure delight.

“But then again, you require discipline, do you not? I did order you not to move, and you unwisely disobeyed me,” he growls, tsking.

“Oh God,” Jane finds herself moaning. _He’s pulling out all the stops tonight, isn’t he?_ Even though it probably won’t change his evil plan, she tries an: “I’m sorry?”

“Hmm. Perhaps I will accept your apology. Perhaps I will not. You will have to wait and see, won’t you?” He laughs low in her ear, his other hand caressing her rear as the first continues to toy with her nipple.

Then the hand on her behind slides lower, dipping into her slippery folds. “So very wet,” he rumbles. “And all for me.”

Jane bites her lip, but she can’t quell a moment of minor rebellion. “Uh, _duh_? Who else would it be for?”

She can feel his grin against her cheek as he glides two elongated fingers into her. Her muscles grip hard around him; that fire inside her already rising again. “An excellent observation, my dear. I believe a reward is warranted.” His finger moves, pumping slowly into her and then out, while another finger – or is it two? – grazes across her sensitive nub.

Jane gasps, arching her back, but Loki’s not done. “I knew you would enjoy that. But perhaps we can make it even more…memorable?”

His thumb rubs against her, gathering slickness, and then moves up, past where he’s already inside her, to caress the tender pucker between her buttocks.

Her eyes widen, her body stiffening at the unexpected touch. Then she exhales slowly, lowering her head to hang limp. Submitting.

“Yes,” Loki speaks into her ear still, his teeth catching at the lobe before he encourages her: “Give in to me. Give in to the pleasure I’m giving you.”

Jane closes her eyes, fisting the furs on the bed and panting as Loki teases her, his thumb caressing the tightly puckered flesh in circles, another finger moving in small thrusts inside her, and his remaining fingers grazing across her clit.

She can feel sweat gathering on her body, her muscles clenching again, the slow build beginning. Loki shifts next to her, though the hand between her legs doesn’t stop.

A sharp smacking sound echoes through the long room as he brings the palm of his other hand down on her ass. Jane gasps, but the strike wasn’t all that hard, the sting fading fast to a tingling heat. It’s only then that she’s aware that she’s moving, pressing herself back against and onto Loki’s fingers.

“Do you want another?” he asks. It surprises her to be asked, and her answer surprises her even more.

“Yes,” she whimpers.

His hand strikes her on the other side, heat curling through from where he spanked her down into the core of her.

In all, she asks him for four more strikes, each set of two becoming slightly harder, but none of them really hurt. There’s the sting of the slap, then the heat, and then the spinning pull inside of her, dragging her closer and closer to the point of doing just what he wanted; coming apart in his hands.

“Loki,” she mewls, and his answering laugh sends a shiver up her spine, his cock rubbing up against her.

“You are doing so well. Working so hard to submit to me. I think you deserve yet another reward, yes? Something I have never done with a lover before. Only for _you_ , Jane.”

Jane blinks sweat from her eyes as she tries to guess what exactly someone of his age and experience might have _never_ done with anyone else-

Which is precisely when the thrusting fingers inside her turn icy. 

She cries out but they’ve already gone warm again, picking up the pace slightly. Then the fingers rubbing her clit turn cold, just for one or two circling motions, and then they are warm again. Jane shudders, biting her lip hard as she teeters unsteady on the edge. It’s only his fingers which are going cold, she realizes; the body pressing into her is otherwise warm. Somehow, he’s keeping himself from going full Jotun.

His thumb is next to shift, ice caressing so many nerve endings, and Jane’s elbows and knees want to buckle. Each shock of cold pulses into her, but it does nothing to quench the fire. If anything, it builds higher, tingling and thrumming all over her. 

She presses back into his hand, rocking back, begging for more. “Yesssss,” comes his encouragement, “Surrender to your desire. Surrender to _me_.” Cold pressing deep inside her, then in wonderfully piercing circles around her clit, and then back against that other entrance to her body…

Jane screams shamelessly, full-throated, not holding back as she comes in a searing flood, a blizzard of fire, a storm of hot and cold. 

As if it’s happening miles away from her, she is distantly aware of Loki gently slipping his hand out of her, and then pulling her into his lap. Her heart hammers in her ears, deafening her, her breaths dragging in and out of her lungs.

“W-wow,” she manages to croak at last. “That was…really… _really_ …amazing. You are officially an evil genius.” She laughs, her forehead resting on his shoulder. “Not that this is news to anyone, I know.”

“Thank you, my love,” he answers, but there’s a strain in his voice that wasn’t there before, his hands gripping her hips tightly. His cock is sandwiched between them, pushing hard against her, pulsing against her belly. She can feel her own fluids dripping out and down, getting him as slippery and wet as her, the scent of sex heavy in the close air.

“Forgive my impatience, but I _ache_ for you. Might I assume, after our discussion of last time, that we can dispense with your Midgardian ‘protection’ from here on out?”

“Wh-what? Oh, yeah. Um, sure.”

He groans and slides into her in one smooth motion, the speed of it drawing a low cry from Jane. The sensations are intense, her core rippling around him, and Jane has all she can do to wrap her arms around his shoulders to steady herself as he begins to thrust up almost violently inside her.

“Look at me,” he orders between gritted teeth, his eyes dark and fierce, the gold flames reflecting in their bottomless depths. She does, locking their gazes together as surely as their bodies are, though eventually it’s too much for her and she tangles her fingers in his hair and pulls him down to crush a kiss to his mouth.

He shudders and allows it, burying his face in her throat, his arms just slightly too tight around her, then he groans her name and pushes up into her a final time, burying himself deep and coming hard.

She’s on her back the next second, Loki pulling out of her but replacing his length with two cold fingers inside her and one ice-rimed thumb delicately tracing her nub, and Jane’s last coherent sight before her third orgasm crashes wildly into her is Loki’s skin slowly turning cyan, the darker ridges springing up in their wake, and a gentle look which is very at odds with those blood-red eyes.

By the time she is completely in contact with reality again, the room is much dimmer, the fire burned down to embers. But while the air is noticeably cooler, she’s not even a little chilled; Loki is spooning her, his warmth wrapped around her and trapped under linen sheets and several furs.

His lips graze against her ear. “Say you belong to me.” His voice is low, rough, but there it is again, that undercurrent of affection that he’s unable to hide from her.

“I do,” she answers simply. There’s nothing else to say. She does. 

His response is just as to-the-point. “And I to you.” A kiss is placed behind her ear, and his arms tighten just a little more around her. “Did you enjoy our ‘date’?”

“Oh yes,” Jane sighs, her hand finding his under the sheets and squeezing it lightly, “it was just perfect.”

“I am glad to hear it. Shall we sleep now?” he murmurs. 

Jane yawns. “Hell yes, I’m halfway there already.”

She can hear the smile in his voice as he replies: “Then sleep well, little one.”

*  *  *

They return to the Palace the next morning via one of Loki’s teleportation spells. Loki still seems to be in no hurry to leave, and Jane doesn’t want to cut short any progress he might be making in reconciling with Frigga and Thor, but she’s not sure how much longer she’s willing to put her own life on hold. 

No doubt SHIELD will want to debrief her, which knowing them will take a day or three. Then she has to take stock of the remains of her portal, and there’s still the matter of whatever might be growing in the back of her fridge…

She decides to compromise; she’ll say nothing about returning to Earth for another week, and then if they haven’t returned or even spoken about it by then, she’ll broach the subject.

Decision made, Jane is happy to allow Loki to play tour guide for the day. Apparently today is some kind of harvest holiday, which means another feast tonight, but that still leaves plenty of time to explore more of the city.

Well-aware of her interest, Loki first takes her to the Asgardian Bifröst. Luckily Thanos hadn’t bothered to try to damage it further, so the work on it is progressing well. Heimdall tells Jane it will probably be operational again within the next two months, and he patiently answers all her questions to the best of his ability. Even though most of it doesn’t make any kind of sense to her – almost as though Heimdall is speaking in another language entirely - Jane scribbles frantically in a little notebook that Loki wordlessly produces from his Interdimensional Closet once it becomes clear that she wants to record everything she can.

Loki is uncomfortable around Heimdall, probably because of the things that happened before she and Loki even met. So Jane does her best to stick to her most burning questions, and then she thanks Heimdall for his time and walks outside to link her arm through Loki’s as he gazes out over the waterfall’s edge of the ocean. “Thanks for bringing me. This is all so…so _fascinating_!” 

He smiles, obvious happy to feed her curiosity, and lifts her up into the saddle of the chestnut gelding that awaits them, settling himself in behind her. The constantly-shifting rainbow colours of the Asbru bridge are nearly as gorgeous as the skies above Asgard, and Jane can’t help but marvel at the massive Gates that open for them as they approach at a gallop, seemingly with no one actually physically opening the massive doors. _Is that magic, too?_

After a quick (but overly generous) lunch in his rooms, Loki leads her towards the Throne Room. Jane catches a glimpse of Odin on his throne before Loki leads her quickly through a side-door and down a hallway. 

The room he takes her to next is obviously some kind of library, judging by the shelves of books, but it’s the large, slowly revolving image of a giant tree, filling the ceiling and the middle of the room, that grabs her attention first. Stars drift between the leaves, and Jane notices the larger, coloured ovals that hang from several of the boughs like heavy fruit.

“May I welcome to the Royal Library? While not as large as the Greater Library, the tomes you see here were all selected for this library by past rulers of Asgard.” Noticing the direction of Jane’s gaze, he continues: “The Nine Realms.”

“It’s a representation of Ygg- Yggdrasil?” she asks, stumbling over the strange name.

He nods. “Here, see for yourself.” He pulls a book down from a shelf. “This is one of my favourite books on the cosmos. Which is why it is here; I placed it in the library myself, many years past.” If there is a trace of nostalgia there, Jane isn’t sure. Loki isn’t looking at her, he’s too busy flipping through the book. By the time Jane is at his side he’s stopped at the pages that describe the so-called ‘Worlds Tree’, and Jane is too engrossed to think of anything else. 

She spends the rest of the afternoon looking at charts of the stars above Asgard, and of Yggdrasil, and again scribbling excitedly until her hand aches. Loki flips through several tomes himself, sometimes sharing things with Jane, but more often giving her space.

Finally, Loki closes a large metal-bound book with a snap. “Come Jane, we have a feast to prepare for.”

Jane sighs and closes her book, resisting the urge to roll her eyes. Feasting is not her favourite activity (not even close), but it’s obviously an important part of life on Asgard, and she doesn’t want to hold Loki back if that’s what he wants to do. _Besides, let’s face it: my hand and my aching eyes can use the rest!_

At least Loki makes less of a fuss this time. There’s a gold dress with green trim already laid out on the bed for her, and a few pieces of jewelry already waiting on the desk. There’s still a servant to help her with her hair, but at least they don’t have an army of people helping this time.

Another plus: Loki looks really handsome. She tells him so, and he smirks, and for a second Jane thinks they won’t actually make it to the feast (and that she wouldn’t really mind, not at all), but then he takes her elbow and steers her out the door and towards the Greater Feasting Hall.

They run into Thor on the way, who beams when he spots them. “Ah, Jane, Loki! I thought he might never be able to prise you from the Royal Library,” Thor says to her, winking.

“It was a near thing,” Loki concedes, smirking. 

“Will you two be staying for a time?” Thor asks.

Jane looks uncertainly at Loki. “We haven’t really discussed it-“

“We shall,” he promises her. “Though I admit I am also waiting to see what Odin will do. Mother has been looking annoyed lately and let it slip to me the other day that the All-Father, despite my recent efforts to save Asgard, may still wish me to face some sort of punishment for my past crimes.”

Jane’s jaw drops. “What?! How can he-?” 

They are nearly at the entrance to the Hall, and Loki turns to drop a quick kiss on her lips. “Do not fear, my love.” Thor chimes in, his expression irritated: “I agree with my brother, Jane. A king punishing a saviour of Asgard would not go over well in the eyes of those that Loki helped to free. And have no doubt that Frigga and I have _much_ to say in the matter, as well.” He nods at them, preceding them into the hall, the air heavy with the smells of bread and meat, Thor pausing so that the man standing by the entryway can announce his arrival.

She takes a breath and grips Loki’s hand firmly. T _here’s no point getting anxious about something I have no control over,_ she reminds herself. _And besides_ \- 

They pause to let themselves be announced, but they’re already halfway down the steps before Jane realizes people are cheering and applauding them loudly, and Thor has turned, looking at them with shock and joy in his eyes.

That’s when an echo of the man’s words registers: “…Loki, and his esteemed wife, Jane Foster of Midgard, the Death-killer.”

_ W…wife? _ Jane stops dead on the stairs and turns to Loki. “ _WHAT_?”

He only smiles and smoothly tugs her down the stairs. Most people are already turning back to their drinks and their conversations, too busy with their own affairs. Thor however is blinking in confusion and looking from Jane to Loki.

The blond god takes a last look at Jane and turns to Loki. “Brother, what have you done now?” Thor’s expression is serious, but there’s a gleam of amusement far back in his eyes that Jane can’t decide if she resents or not.

Loki blinks calmly. “I don’t know what all the fuss is about.” He shrugs elegantly. “On the eve of our ‘date’, Jane and I shared mead and vows before a fire, and then, shall we say, _consummated_ those vows.”

Jane’s jaw creaks open. “ _That’s_ all it takes? That’s an Asgardian wedding?”

Thor stares very hard at Loki. “In some cases, yes.” Thor replies. “Most weddings are much more elaborate it is true, but it is not unheard of for Asgardians to still engage in that ancient form of marriage. Though it is considered a kind of elopement, it is as legally binding as the other forms of-“

Jane advances on Loki, her palm itching to slap him even if it will sting like hell. “You tricked me!” she growled. “You didn’t tell me that saying those vows and doing all… _that_ would make us officially _married_!”

The corner of Loki’s mouth twitches up. “Of course I did not. I am the God of Misch-“

“Yeah, I got the goddamned memo. You…you son of a bitch.” But she’s muttering now. _It’s just so_ him, _isn’t it?_

Thor is smiling too, though he tries to quash it when Jane’s annoyed gaze turns his way.

Whirling, Jane fixes Loki with her most withering glare, even though it feels false on her face. Because she does love him, doesn’t she? Even when she refused his second proposal, she’d never actually envisioned being with anyone else, had she? She’d only been putting the big formal commitment off for a time.

But even if at some level she knows this is right – even if the way he did it is so entirely _wrong_ \- she is determined not to give in easily. “Did we, or did we _not_ agree, Loki, that you are not allowed to make unilateral decisions about ‘us’ anymore? Tricking me into marrying you definitely qualifies, you know!”

He cocks his head, crossing his leather-clad arms across his chest. “And were you not doing the same when you insisted that we _not_ wed, these many days past?”

Jane sputters, groping for an argument she can sense is going to fail miserably, but Loki isn’t done. “In any case, did I not do as you asked? You demanded that we engage in ‘dating’ before marriage, and we did.”

Jane gapes at him. “It was _one_ freaking date!”

“So it was, my love, but you never specified how _many_ dates, now did you? Nor how long a period you expected to spend courting. How can you hold me to task, when you are not explicit in what it is that you require?”

Thor is obviously trying to stifle a grin behind one massive hand, and Jane scowls at them both, crossing her arms across her chest. “OK, then try this – I’m not Asgardian, so I don’t recognize your bloody ceremony.”

“I believe that does not matter, according to Asgardian law,” Loki counters idly. “And at any rate, we may certainly marry in the typical Midgardian fashion as well. I am quite willing to do that. It usually requires a ring, does it not? I already have one, as I am sure you recall. We could have that ceremony at your earliest convenience of course.” 

Jane stares. Loki being open to something _human_ , without trash-talking it. Go figure. “You’re willing to do that?”

“Of course. We are of two peoples, and so it is only fair to honour both.”

_ Three, _ Jane corrects to herself, _human, Asgardian, Frost Giant._ She stores that thought away for later however. She has bigger fish to fry right now.

_ Will I  _ ever _be able to predict what Loki will do?_

Probably not.

Then she remembers she’s supposed to be giving him a hard time. “No, wait. While that offer is nice of you and all, you are totally – and deliberately, I’m sure – missing the point here!”

“I am certain, beloved wife, that you will have plenty of time in the intervening years to explain it to me most thoroughly. Shall we?” he offers her his arm, Thor still watching them, and still obviously trying to repress his mirth.

Jane glowers but accepts Loki’s gesture. “Just so you know, I am _so_ going to find a way to make you pay for this, Loki.”

“Hmmm, that sounds potentially very enjoyable,” Loki replies with a knowing smirk, and Jane feels her cheeks go red as Thor fails to stifle a guffaw.

Jane rolls her eyes and looks crossly over at Thor, who has given up entirely by now and is grinning happily at them both. “Hey Thor, can I borrow Mjölnir?” Even though she knows she can’t wield it.

And even though she’s not really that upset.

“If you seriously damage me, my lady,” Loki observes, catching on quicker than Thor, “I fear I will be of much less use to you.”

“Oh yeah? Who says you’re of any use to me _now_?” Jane retorts.

Loki clutches at his heart, smirking broadly. “How you wound me, cruel bride.”

“Should’ve thought of _that_ before you tricked me into marrying you, idiot.”

He nods, though the side of his mouth twitches again and his free hand comes to rest warmly on hers where it lies in the crook of his elbow. “No doubt. Ah well, as it is far too late now, I suppose I shall have to make myself more attractive to you as a mate, to cool your ire.”

“Yeah, good luck with that, buddy.” Jane snaps, fighting the smile that is pulling at her own lips. It doesn’t help at all that Thor is walking ahead of them, his shoulders shaking with silent laughter as he eavesdrops on their conversation.

“I could start now,” Loki remarks, spinning her around in a loop in front of him and then drawing her unresisting into his arms, claiming her mouth with a fierce kiss that makes her dizzy. She barely notices the cheers, laughter and applause from those around them.

But she’s definitely more than capable of giving him a run for his money when it comes to stubbornness, so even though she has to steady herself with both hands on his chest when he finally lets her up for air, she retorts with: “We’re not done discussing this.”

His expression is indulgent as he leads her to the high table. “Of course.”

She pauses when they’re almost at the dais, trying to think of another demand to make. “And if – _if_ – we get married the human way, you’re making the damned ring removable this time. By _me_ , not only by a psychopathic purple megalomaniac. You get me?”

“Of course.” Another smirk.

Jane huffs. “You are damned lucky that I love you.”

His smirk only grows. “That I am.”

She huffs a bit more. “Oh, just shut up and kiss me again.”

“Of course.” 

Smiling brilliantly enough to light the entire Hall, he does.

FIN

**Author's Note:**

> Some readers may recognize elements of the ‘elopement’ from cincoflex’s Helpmeet series. Although I don’t normally ‘borrow’ ideas from other fics to use in my own writing, something about that scenario stuck in my head and wouldn’t budge, and I just HAD to use those elements here (with Cinco’s permission of course) though I put my own twist on them.
> 
> Second, I would like to sincerely thank everyone who has left comments (particularly those who have left comments on multiple chapters!) for taking the time to leave feedback. Unfortunately I’m feeling lately like I’m not getting much support from the fandom in terms of feedback, and it’s lessened my motivation to share my fics here. But as a reader I know how much it sucks when writers abandon fics so I have fought the urge to just disappear and take my AUs with me. Those of you who HAVE left feedback and love have certainly helped me want to stick around, at least long enough to finish this! *big hugs*
> 
> A HUGE thank-you to canyr12, who has had to put up with far too many of my obsessive tendencies in the course of getting this thing done. Without her willingness to discuss myriad plot ideas and to deal with my habit of overusing commas, this fic may not have happened at all…or may not have been half as coherent. So thanks so very much hon, and I owe you a fic prompt! :)
> 
> Finally, I am seriously thinking of writing a sequel to this series, which means I could do with a new icon/ banners. Anyone interested? I'll love you forever (and could be easily persuaded to take a fic prompt from said fanart-makers)!!!


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